


Nestled in the White Roses

by rainismymusic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Galaxy Garrison, Gen, M/M, klance, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:12:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainismymusic/pseuds/rainismymusic
Summary: Based off of @_kiilea's Witch!AU, this will take place in a world where witches and magic are modled with modern society.A year after Shiro and Matt disappeared into the woods bordering their town, Lance stumbles upon the beaten form of Shiro. After rescuing him with Keith, they are lead to an old treehouse, which unknown to them houses the Lions of Voltron, familiars of great power who grant their partners great control of magic. Using their newfound abilities, it is up to the paladins to save the magical kingdom from an invading species, the Galra.





	Nestled in the White Roses

Lance would soon be kicked out of the Garrison. The knowledge settled like a stone in his chest. He was failing. He was doomed. He’d always known he didn’t fit here. He wasn’t gifted like the others. Now everyone would know it. He’d be branded a reject, a loser. Head down, he kicked a stone down the street and shoved his hands deep in his pockets as a small group of kids ran down the street, shrieking with joy and playfully pushing each other. Iverson had exploded today after his many failed spells, ranting about his incompetence in magic. According to the instructor, Lance had minimal given talents and never showed improvement. 

He wasn’t wrong. For weeks, Lance had been working after everyone else was asleep on the simplest spells- ones his classmates picked up in a few days. They still eluded him. He was falling further and further behind, and despite his numerous all-nighters and practice sessions with Pidge, he couldn’t do it. 

Lance could feel water dripping from his fingertips, flowing openly across skin, even when his hands were completely dry. The practiced motion of simply summoning his magic was embedded in him, almost like the feeling after a rollercoaster. Your body moving on those bumps and curves long after the experience had ended. The same was true for magic, except those movements were his hands. His hands had a mind of their own, Hunk would joke, after Lance woke once again to find his bed soaked. He could wet the bed like a toddler, sure, but nothing happened when he was awake. 

The walk to Pidge’s shop was long, but the relative seclusion from the inner town was peaceful, Lance’s room had a nice overlook of the woods stretching around the village, and he could often see small lights in the trees, spirits and creatures frolicking in the dark. Another perk of his dorm was its distance from Iverson, who ran the most prominent and efficient witch school in the area, and didn’t long abide failures. 

The Garrison had produced many famous witches, including the missing leader and excelled werewolf, Shiro. Lance looked up from the cracked pavement to see the shop’s sign, the Holy Holts, and trotted the last few steps to the entrance. 

He threw the door open, bell clanging against the fading wood. Hunk sat at the register, flipping through a magazine. Pidge was nowhere in sight - probably in the back, hard at work on one of her new projects. 

“How was practice today?” Hunk asked, still reading. 

Lance groaned, collapsing on the cashier counter. “Exhausting, as always. Iverson made me do a ton of practice spells, but not one worked. Or at least, not the way he wanted it to.”

“Mhhmm,” Hunk nodded, suddenly morphing into a small pixie with messy blonde locks. This was not uncommon, in fact, even expected, as the main reason Hunk even read magazines was to practice his shapeshifting. Almost on cue, he changed again, now a handsome, dark haired model. 

“Hunk! You’re not even listening!” 

Hunk was also a cadet of the Garrison, except in a different class of Witch than him: Shapeshifter. The boys’ school hours differed, half in part to their powers, and half to divide work hours at the shop. 

Hunk finally looked up, meeting Lance’s gaze. He returned to his normal form. “Dude, I don’t know what to say. You’re the one who wanted that open cadet spot after-”

“You’re no help,” Lance mumbled, pushing away from the counters edge. “Where’s Pidge?”

“Busy!” Pidge screeched from her work room. “Quit your complaining and go do something about it, or leave me in peace.”

Ignoring Pidge’s words, Lance ambled towards the workroom, eventually locating Pidge behind a box of colored wires. Pidge was the owner and manager of Holy Holts, as she had been for over a year, being the only Holt left after her father and brother’s disappearance. Shiro, an old family friend, had accompanied them on a mission to map the woods surrounding the town. None of them had returned.

Pidge now managed her family’s shop, taking over the jobs her brother, Matt, and father, Samuel, had done. Her main business was fixing and selling magical items to aid weaker witches, as well as providing helpful potions and rare items. 

On top of running the shop, Pidge was also a cadet of the Garrison. Where Lance struggled, Pidge excelled, gaining a reputation for intelligence and control. She had lots of practice- deploying her powers everyday since childhood in her work at the shop. Pidge possessed a rare combination of plant and technological magic, capable of using magic to effect and replicate technology. 

She was good; her powers gave Holy Holts an edge on every other shop in town. So good she could hire Hunk and Lance to run the shop and communicate with customers while she focused on repairs and production. 

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” Pidge barked, noticing his shadow appear over the box. “Lance, she’s right.” Hunk called from the front room, the conversation enough to draw his interest from his magazine. 

“Pidge, Hunk’s being mean.” 

Pidge scoffed, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “I’m sure he is Lance. Now leave.”

“Does anyone care about me?” Lance wailed, bringing an arm to his head and falling against some shelves full of spare parts. “My own friends, too?”

“It’s still my shift, Lance. Otherwise I would go. It wouldn’t hurt you to go alone. Might help you focus.” Hunk lectured, popping his head into the doors opening. 

Pidge grunted in agreement, sticking her tongue out from her mouth in concentration. 

Hunk and Pidge were both right, but Lance was reluctant to take their advice. Hunk could normally accompany him, but because of a Garrison schedule change for the day, Lance had finished his shift early in the morning while Hunk waited until the afternoon. Pidge had her lessons later that night, one of the reasons she was so rushed to finish her work.

“Fine,” He sighed. “But if I come back sopping wet and have to lay down in your bed, don’t blame me.”

Lance was already in his Garrison issued clothes, perfect for practicing magic. He grabbed a few of his personal spellbooks and trinkets, starting the hike to the edge of the town, and into the woods circling it. 

Despite having lived in his town for his entire life, Lance had never went far past the edges of the woods. He loved it, despite the danger, daring the venture into the closest grooves because his magic felt more powerful there. The feeling of the trees surround him on all sides was one of the reasons he enjoyed practicing his magic outside rather than the facilities in the Garrison. It felt more real to him. He was more connected with the nature he relied on to access his magic. 

It was a strange love of his, one he shared only with his family and Pidge and Hunk. He much preferred real nature than the simulated tests at the Garrison. Lance would often bomb simple spells at the Garrison, only to practice in the woods later and achieve it. 

His practice spot was located only a few minutes away from the town. What it lacked in distance, it made up for in coverage. The forest was the thickest in this area, a few steps into the woods could have you completely covered from an observer.

Lance had always been careful to stick to the outskirts however, where there were few magical creatures and in safe reach of the shop. 

Entering the woods through a path he had made on his own, he walked for only a minute before reaching the clearing he desired.

Placed in the middle of a dense grove of oaks, it offered coverage but had enough space to comfortably walk around and cast space-occupying spells. The best part was the stream that ran past the clearing, giving Lance access to the only thing he could control: water.

Rolling up his sleeves in the hot summer air, Lance set his spell books down on a stump, crouching next to the steady flow of water.

He dipped one finger in, sucking the liquid up to encase his hand like a glove. He did the same for the other hand, standing back up to look over the spell he had bookmarked earlier.

He took a deep breath in, and when he exhaled, he started chanting the incantation.

~

Lance’s arms shook from the continuous strain of spells. He had been practicing for hours, so much that dusk was slowly falling over the town, amber light seeping through the leaves covering the sky above him. It cast dancing patches of golden light, some falling on the spell symbols and notes scattered over the ground.

A crack to Lance’s left drew his attention, and his lips stopped moving mid-spell. He stared at the small cluster of trees while slowly bringing his hands down. It wasn’t uncommon for a magical animal to stray outside the deep woods, but one so close to the towns edge, where Lance practiced, was unheard of. 

Perhaps it was the time. It had grown late and night brought life into the otherwise empty forest. Lance would often observe creatures from his room’s window, small lights and chirps exploding from the teeming woods. 

Lance took a hesitant step forward, observing the thick mess of bushes where he’d heard the sound. As he moved, a rumbling, warning growl filled the air. A pair of yellow eyes snapped open, glowing through the brambles. 

Lance jumped back, a yell escaping from the back of his throat. His foot snagged on a tree root - sending him sprawling backwards. A snout slowly emerged from the numerous branches, twigs snapping as the large body followed. 

A wolf twice the size as a grown man towered over Lance, sharp fangs protruding from his muzzle. Black fur covered the animal, matted with seeds and caked with dirt. Multiple wounds cutting deep into its skin gaped, blood openly dripping. Small splatters of red blood fell to the dry dirt, leaving red divits in the earth. 

The most prominent feature however, was the wolf’s robotic right leg, a type of metal Lance had never seen. A light pink scar crossed the base of its muzzle. White fur burst above the wolf’s head, running down the back of its head and down to its tail. Lance had seen this massive wolf before, not in person, and never in this state.

It was Shiro. 

Lance’s idol, the hero he had looked up to for years. Now standing over him, growling, teeth bared. Lance was frozen - in awe of the person he had looked up to for years, the person who had inspired him to enroll the witch program, and frozen in fear. 

Small rocks pressed against his palms, fingernails digging into dust. Wolf Shiro narrowed his eyes, almost uncertain what to do. The only sounds in the air were the wind soughing through the trees, and Lance’s ragged breath. He dared not move, knowing full well what a sudden movement could convey. 

 

An ear-piercing shriek broke through the silence, followed by the giddy laugh of a child in the town. Oh no, Lance thought, seeing Shiro’s ears ruffle at the loud disturbance. Reactions kicking in just in time, Lance rolled to his right, face pressing into the dense foliage covering the ground. In the following split second, Shiro’s paws dug into the ground, directly where Lance’s body had been, launched himself directly towards to the town’s center. 

Shiro was fast. Within seconds, he was out of Lance’s reach, sprinting down the long section of empty land. He would soon be past the houses and remote shops on the outskirts of the town. Lance grunted, pushing himself back up. 

He had to warn Pidge and Hunk, as well as the rest of the town. Shiro wasn’t his normal self, which was expected after being lost in the woods for over a year. However, suddenly reappearing in his wolf form, bloodied and scarred, who knew what he had endured during that time. 

Lance started sprinting towards Pidge’s shop, breathing heavily from both exertion and fear. In the distance, he heard the first scream. Shiro had begun attacking. In only a few minutes, his feet hit pavement, and he began racing down the familiar streets he had lived his entire life. 

Villagers poured out of their houses, crowding the street to investigate the noise. Lance was surprised there wasn’t a panic, but curiosity won out over fear. Lance ran past the last of the groups, fumbling with the door handle to the entrance to the shop. His fingers shook, the soft outdoor light beaming from above his head in the fading night. 

Finally grasping the knob, he swung open the door, which crashed into the wall. “Pidge!” He managed to yell, before bending over with his hands resting on his knees, frantically trying to catch his breath. 

Heavy footsteps, followed by smaller ones sounded on the staircase. “I swear to GOD Lance, I told you to be careful with the door! If there’s one scratch I’m going to-” Pidge’s voice stuttered when she came into glance of Lance. 

“What happened?” Hunk marveled, scurrying alongside Pidge to crowd Lance. 

A coppery taste rose to Lance’s throat, still heaving deep breaths. “S-shiro…” he managed to sputter, “Was a-at the forest, and now he-’s destroying center town.”

Pidge gasped. “He’s back? Why is he attacking? Lance, did you see Matt? Or my father?” Lance shook his head. “Only Shiro. And he’s different too. He has a scar, and is wounded. Oh, and has a robotic arm.” Lance pondered it for a second. “Or paw?...”

“This is bad.” Hunk fretted, twisting his hands together. “Shiro shouldn’t be like this. He’s been gone for a year, why return now?”

Pidge cut Hunk off. “Wait. What happens if Iverson and the Garrison captures him?”

“They might kill him.” Hunk whispered. 

“That can’t happen, Shiro might be the only one who knows where Matt and my dad are, and about what’s out there.”

“Can we even take on the Garrison?”

Pidge shook her head, bringing a hand to her chin. “We don’t have a choice. Besides, we wouldn’t actually be attacking them, we just need to get Shiro back.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lance interrupted, “But we have to go now if we want to find Shiro before the Garrison does.” 

“Let’s go then.” 

Pidge hurried out the still open door, Lance following in hot pursuit. Hunk exited last, pulling the door closed behind him and clicking the lock into place. Lance was about to run in the direction of Shiro when a hand on his bicep stopped him. 

“Wait.” Pidge commanded, raising her hands in the direction of the shop. Eyes narrowing in concentration, her familiar green magic manifested in her palms. Vines exploded from around the building, tendrils wrapping around stone. The numerous plants placed on the windowsills moved in unison, covering the shop in viridescent organisms. One long tendril wrapped around the banner placed above the door, covering the words carefully inscribed. 

Within seconds of her command, Pidge had turned her shop into a fortress, every entrance and exit covered with thick foliage. She dropped her hands to her hips, admiring her handiwork. 

“W-wow.” Lance stuttered, marveling at the magnificent display of magic. The control and knowledge of magic and spells needed to make and execute that action was extremely advanced, once again reminding him of Pidge’s power. 

“It’s a protection spell I’ve been working on for a while, to defend the shop when one of us isn’t here. Considering Shiro could come up here and ravage it at a moments notice, might as well utilize it.” Pidge smirked, spinning on her heel and turning away from the shop, confident in her abilities. 

All three of them ran in the same direction, side by side. Before long, Pidge began noticing small signs of struggle, including a stray claw marks cut into different surfaces. The destruction got more intense as they moved closer to the Garrison’s Headquarters, which was located in the middle of town, in close proximity to town hall. Lance pointed this out, to which Pidge thought about for a second before answering. 

“It may have to do with Shiro’s past experiences. Perhaps he was drawn to the Garrison because he remembers it most vividly. He isn’t fully human in his wolf form - which may be the reason he’s even attacking at all. From what you described Lance, it could seem that Shiro is attacking because he is still affected from whatever, or whoever, hurt him.” Pidge told, taking occasional pauses in between sentences to catch her breath. 

They all paused at a corner, Pidge gesturing to a side alley wedged between streets. On the other side was a bright light, one allowing them to view the large space where the Garrison was nestled. By now the sky was completely dark, the only thing lighting their path was the flashlight Hunk had thought to grab before leaving the shop, and the small porch lights scattered across various streets. 

An ear-splitting announcement rang through the air, they stopped mid step. “Attention citizens, we are on lockdown. Stay in your houses and do not come out until told. Security situation Zulu Niner. Repeat: All citizens are to remain inside homes until further notice.”

“Oh no, this is bad,” Hunk whimpered. “Maybe we should just go back to the shop, I can fix us up some hot cocoa, a little night snack.”

“No.” Pidge glared. “If they are telling people to stay inside, it can only mean they don’t want people to see what’s going on.” 

“It’s true,” Lance confirmed, “Considering they’ve already captured Shiro.”

He gave a head tilt towards the end of the alley corner, being careful to stay in the darkness as Pidge and Hunk peered behind him. 

Shiro was strapped down to a table, restraints covering his tensed muscles. Around him was carnage. Torn pieces of material, clawed shreds of fabric, and crunched metal littered the town square. Surrounding him were Garrison witches and doctors, many taking blood and tissue samples. They seemed to be more focused on his metal arm, still attached to his human form, and in the proper size for a human. Whatever technology it was, it shifted with Shiro’s abilities. 

“There are dozens of them,” Hunk whispered, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “We can’t take on all of them, and even then we have the issue of actually getting him out of here.”

Pidge had gone unnaturally silent, no input on the current situation. Lance turned to face her, intrigued. “What-” he started, being cut off by a chain of large explosions detonating one after the other, in a domino effect. The sound rippled through the air, loud enough to make all three of them clutch their ears in pain. 

It lasted only seconds, but it had served its purpose. 

“What was that?” Lance screeched, expecting to see blood as he brought his hands down from his ears. 

“A distraction!” Pidge exclaimed, “For him!”

Extending a finger, Lance followed her directions to view a cloaked figure crouching by a corner similar to their own hiding spot. Lance narrowed his eyes, sure he had seen this person before. 

“Who could it be?” Hunk asked, peeking around the corner to view the stranger. 

“It doesn’t matter! Look!” 

Pidge was right. The numerous witches and doctors surrounding Shiro dispersed to investigate the explosions, leaving only a few weak witches to guard Shiro. The hooded person sprinted towards the middle of the street, beginning to take out the rear guard with bolts of crimson magic. 

“Oh no he doesn’t!” Lance yelled, ducking out of the alleyway into view. 

“Lance, wait!” Pidge cried from behind him. Lance ignored her warning, feet pounding on the cobblestone as he swerved past the knocked-out witches. The figure, now close enough for Lance to determine was a male, unsheathed a knife on his waist, quickly using it to cut the restraints binding Shiro to the lab table. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, grunting with the added weight. 

“No, no, no, no you don’t I’m saving Shiro.” Lance challenged, marching up to the lab table and grabbing Shiro’s other arm.

The boy snapped his head in Lance’s direction, sudden movement pushing the cloak down to the nape of his neck, fabric piling in a soft spool. The bandana wrapped around his face dropped to his neck, exposing the features of the former cadet. 

Violet eyes stared into his own, dark purple specks dotting his irises. Dark, soft locks sprung wildly in every direction, and fell down his neck. A mullet if Lance had ever seen one. One he had teased this boy about for ages until only a few months ago, before he was suddenly expelled by Iverson. The boy who had a discipline issue and flunked out, the only reason Lance managed to obtain his spot in the prestigious Garrison. 

They both spoke at the same time. 

“Keith?” 

“Lance?”

**Author's Note:**

> Based off @_Kiilea's AU (@ is on Instagram), for her 20k contest! This was very rushed because hey, school is a thing, but I'm glad I was able to submit it in time! She's one of my absolute favorite artists. This will be multichapter, but isn't currently because of the contest deadline. Be sure to leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed it, it would mean so much to a young writer like me!
> 
> Places to find me:  
> Instagram: @rainismymusic  
> Witch!AU artist and creator: @_kiilea on Instagram


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